


2000 Years of Chasing Takes Its Toll

by LonelySparrow



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: I don't know where Zayn and Liam are they aren't mentioned, M/M, Oops, vampire! harry and popstar! niall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-12
Updated: 2013-07-12
Packaged: 2017-12-19 05:54:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/880201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LonelySparrow/pseuds/LonelySparrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry is an awkward, vampire who just needed some socks. Niall is a popstar who just needed space. It's that cliche Vampire fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	2000 Years of Chasing Takes Its Toll

**Author's Note:**

> Hi thanks for reading this. I was inspired by...I don't even know really. This just came to me. Oops. Here you go. I don't own Harry or Niall. I don't actually believe/want them to do the following. They're real persons who can do whatever they want. Blah blah blah disclaimer. Woo here ya go. I didn't proofread because I'm lazy. Oh, and the title is from Kings of Leon's song, "Closer" which is about a vampire! oo.

He wants to write a screenplay. He wants to call it A Cheshire Vampire in London. He wants to do this simply because he wants attention and he wants to get sued by the original writer. He could make loads of money. Ever since Twilight and the Vampire Diaries, interest in vampires has skyrocketed. It is the third most searched topic on the Google. Just kidding! He made that up he doesn’t even have internet. Well, he has it on his phone, but he’s far too lazy to look it up. Actually, Thailand is the number one place in the world to internet search for vampires. But regardless, he thinks naming it A Cheshire Vampire in London is enough of a swipe to get in trouble for, even though he’s not talking about werewolves and he’s not American. Anyway, the point is he wants to rip John Landis off so he can get sued and hire and turn the very fit attorney down the block into a slurpee. 

He likes to take the long way about things. He could just go down the lane one night, go up to the door and politely knock. Then it’d be a simple flash of his flashy eyes, a nice puncture into the carotid and he could have his slurpee for the evening. Once finished he’d wipe his mouth on the cloth napkin he brought along (Harry might be a monster, but he was no savage, sleeve-wiper!) and then he’d go home and not have to worry. The man will have forgotten because of Harry’s wacky eyeballs and his neck would heal from his saliva (I guess the kids these days would call it venom, when in actuality, it’s just spit with a bit of extra collagen and myofribroblasts that help speed up hemostasis and the proliferation of new tissue woohoo, getting that Biology degree in University was fun). He soon realizes though, that he takes a long time to tell a story, and his screenplay would be at least fourteen hours long and human minds are far too fickle to stay focused for such a time amount. 

He abandons the idea and decides to go for a nap in his coffin. Yes, a coffin. Where else would he sleep? I mean, it’s actually really comfy. It’s a nice shape, old mahogany wood with a shiny finish. You can see the wood grains in the pattern and it reminds Harry very much of the forest and very much of his home in Cheshire where he’d play in the woods with his mates. He’s sentimental. He likes to keep things. Like, he has this box in his closet that has an item he’s stolen from each of his victims. It’s kind of nice. When he’s sad and lonely (which he is often, I mean he’s near agoraphobic!) he likes to pull out the box and think of the conversations he had with his victims before enjoying a snack. They won’t remember him, though, and that makes him sad.

Some of his favorite items are actually interesting so he leaves them on display in case guests come by his house and he can talk about them. He feels a bit like Ron Weasley’s dad and his obsession with Muggle items. He doesn’t mind though. He has these really cool slippers that have speakers in them so when you walk around they play music, they’ve got a cheesy name but he’s long forgotten by now. He also has a box of colored pencils that are people-shaded. As in, they are colors of people’s skin. His favorite is the toast one. It would be cool to be the same shade as toast (he stole those from an art student, she was very nice and had skin the color of the cinnamon pencil). He’s got some fuzzy pink handcuffs, a unicorn mask, some leopard print tights, a chocolate bar with bacon in it, and a stegasaurous costume for a dog.

He can’t find any socks though and the heat’s gone out in his flat. No nap for him. It’s Tesco Time. 

New mission in life: become a jingle creator.

Right, sidetracked again.

He pulls on a pair of black skinny jeans that are probably obscenely tight to wear out in public and a large, warm grey grandpa sweater. He slips on a pair of slippers and grabs his wallet. It’s just past two a.m. now and he might be able to grab a snack on the way home if he hurries. 

He should have worn a coat, Harry realizes, as soon as he’s stepped out into the night air. The chill bites clear down to his bones and he shoves his hands beneath his armpits and scurries across the sidewalk to the car park. He climbs into his Audi R8, black as the night, and smiles to himself. Okay, yeah, maybe he shouldn’t have stolen that winning lottery ticket from the banker but the man was already filthy rich. He wouldn’t miss a few million quid.

He drives cross town to the nearest Tesco and waltzes inside, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. He gets distracted by all of the fancy and colorful packaging on the food-stuffs. He doesn’t much care for human food. It’s very bland and makes his stomach ache but there are a few things he does want to try. His friend Louis Tomlinson, a human who works at the record store Harry’s always visiting, says Oreos and Reese’s Peanut Butter cups are to die for. Harry prefers not murdering people though, so perhaps he’ll skip those.vLouis likes to pull Harry’s leg a lot though.

 

It’s nice knowing Louis. His sister, Lottie, was bitten and turned by a vampire boy in her class (who shouldn’t have been in public school yet, he was too young and didn’t understand resisting of the urges) and so Louis is filled in and up to date with most vampire news and habits. When Harry’s very sad and lonely he’ll pay a visit to Louis. Louis can cheer him up in a heartbeat (which Harry does not have…).

Harry finally makes it to the clothing section and hunts around for a pair of socks. He wants something rather thick and perhaps fuzzy. Fuzzy = cushy right?

He finds his pair of socks and is marching up to the register when he sees something most peculiar. 

There’s a boy across the way from Harry, wearing thick black Ray Ban sunglasses, a hooded sweatshirt, and a flat cap. He’s moving around the store in jerky, hurried movements as if at any moment he’s going to be attacked or something. Harry can’t resist a good joke and the boy smells absolutely delicious.

He sneaks around the grocery aisle and pops out at the end, giving a faint, “Boo!”

The blonde boy nearly jumps out of his skin, dropping his basket and flailing back into a stand that held bananas. The bananas fall to the floor and make a dull, plomp! noise.

“Jesus! You didn’t have to scare me! You could have just asked for a feckin’ picture!” The boy’s got a deep crease between his eyebrows and he’s still got his left hand clutched to his heart.

“A picture?”

“Yes! I’ll autograph whatever you want, please, just let me get out of here in peace!” 

“Autograph? Why would I want…”

“Here,” He pulls the socks from Harry’s large hands and whips out a Sharpie from the pocket of his blue jeans. The blonde boy scrawls his name across the package and hands it back to Harry.

“Niall Horan.” Harry reads aloud.

“Yes, it’s really me. Lucky you, you’ve caught me at Tesco at 2 something in the morning. Congratulations,” He huffs, trying to put the bananas back on the shelf now.

“Oh. I’ve no idea who you are, I’m sorry.”

“What?” The blonde, now known as Niall, drops the last of the bananas on to the stand and turns around to face Harry.

Harry’s a little caught off guard by the boy’s eyes. They’re a brilliant blue and the way they light up and flash remind Harry a lot of a vampire’s eyes. He knows this is no vampire though. He can hear the kid’s heartbeat, nearly taste it.

“I’m sorry. I’m Harry, Harry Styles and I’m afraid I don’t know any Niall Horan’s.” Harry replies, holding out one very large hand.

“If you don’t know me, why’d you come over here then?” Niall asks curiously, reaching out a tinier hand and shaking Harry’s own.

“I wanted to scare you. You looked jumpy, and I thought it’d be funny.” Harry chuckled.

Niall looked utterly confused but shrugged his shoulders, “Okay?”

“Well, sorry for nearly kil-. Err. Sorry for scaring you mate, see you round!” Harry walked away off towards the checkout counters.

Quick footsteps followed behind him, though and something tugged on his sleeve. He stopped and turned around, knowing who it was by scent.

“Did you need something, Niall?” Harry asked curiously, smiling so big his dimples popped out.

“Uhm, yes. You owe me. You scared me and now you owe me.” Niall blushed a pretty pink that mottled up his pale skin.

Harry felt his eyes darken with lust, and it wasn’t just because of the blood racing beneath Niall’s veins. Niall was perhaps the prettiest person Harry had ever laid eyes on. He’d love to have a snack right now and Niall would be perfect but there was something so innocent about him and Harry really didn’t want to mess whatever it was up.

“Well, what would you like?”

“How about you walk me home? I walked here, stupidly, and it’s cold and it’s very dark and scary. How about you walk me home? You look like you could take on a mugger.”

Harry wanted to burst out laughing. Niall was so so interesting.

“Alright, fair play, mate. Let’s ring up and I’ll walk you home.” Harry handed the woman at the counter his socks who seemed to freak out upon seeing Niall.

She started to get a little teary eyed and asked for a picture. Then she asked if Niall could sign something of hers. Finally she asked if he could talk to the woman’s sister and tell her ‘Happy Birthday.’ It was a good thing Harry was patient. 

When they finally escaped the store, Harry tucked his socks into the back pocket of his jeans and tucked his hands in his pocket. 

“Do you want to go in my car instead? It has a heater?”

Niall seemed to think on it for a minute, and Harry become conscious of how creepy and possibly weird that sounded. Niall finally gave a small shrug of his shoulders and nodded, following Harry across the car park.

“Woah. This is a nice car! I almost bought one, but went for a Range Rover instead.” Niall gawped at the car for a moment longer, but Harry just slid into the seat, long, thin fingers quickly turning the dials and getting the heat going once the car was started.

“So…um, not to be rude, but can you tell me why that girl was nearly sobbing over you?” Harry asked curiously as he turned out of the parking lot down the one way street.

“Oh, uhm, I’m Niall Horan and I’m a popstar I guess you could say. I’m really more of a singer/songwriter type but I’ve just hit it big here in the UK. I’m from Mullingar, in Ireland and I won a competition on the tele called the X Factor. I’m signed with a man named Simon Cowell.”

“Oh! I know him! He’s the really mean one on that American show, always telling the people they can’t sing. I mean they can’t, but at least he could say something a little nicer, right?”

“He’s not that bad. He’s actually really great. Been really great with me, helping me get signed and all.”

“So you were in Tesco getting groceries at 2 a.m. so your fans wouldn’t bother you. I see. Sorry I scared you.” Harry replied, turning onto a road Niall had gestured.

“It’s alright. It’s nice to meet you. Want to tell me why you’re driving an Audi R8 and buying socks at 2?” 

“Oh. Well. Uhm…”

“I mean, I guess I shouldn’t be so nosy.”

“No, it’s okay. Do you want the half-truth or the whole-truth. Be warned, if you hear the whole-truth you might runaway and scream and never come back and I kind of think you’re really nice and I’d like to be your friend and I don’t want you to run away and scream.”

Niall seemed to go silent for another long pause, making gestures with his hands about which roads to take while he drove along.

“Alright, well I think you’re an attractive bloke and I’d like to ask you for a date and I’m sure whatever you tell me can’t be that bad so…tell me the whole-truth.”

Harry considered it for a moment. The bloke liked him back. The fittest bloke Harry’s found thinks Harry’s fit too. Did he really want to ruin this with the whole ‘I’m a vampire and I like to turn you and your friends into slurpies’ talk. But the boy’s face was so pure, and trusting and Harry didn’t dare lie to him. So he heaved a sigh.

“I can’t go outside during the day. I’ll die.”

Niall laughed out loud, a very boisterous and obnoxious sound that sent good-tingles up Harry’s spine.

“What, you a vampire or something? Ha ha ha!” 

 

“Yes. I’m a vampire.” Harry replied seriously. Niall continued laughing but it eventually died down. This felt too cliché for Harry. The person laughs and goes, oh you’re serious!

“You’re serious!?” Niall bellows out and in Harry’s head he goes, point one for Styles. Called it!

“Yes.”

It was silent for a very long moment, so long that Harry had driven the rest of the way across town and pulled up in a space in front of Niall’s flat.

Harry felt the burn and sting of rejection slip across his skin and if he could cry, he’s sure he’d be doing so. He just wanted to be the bloke’s friend. 

Okay, yeah he wanted to fuck him too and maybe cuddle a lot and get married on a unicorn or something but…

“Harry?”

“Yes?”

“I don’t mind that you’re a vampire.”

“You don’t mind that I’m a vampire?”

“Yes. It’s fine. I don’t judge people. Especially in my position.”

“I can’t go outside during the day,” Harry states, fingers fiddling with a string off of his sweater.

“That’s okay. I sleep all day.” Niall grins.

“I’m rock hard, and not in the good way. Skin’s like marble.” Harry states.

“I always preferred a firm mattress to a soft one. Solidity is nice, squidgy is not.” Niall giggles and Harry feels warm all over.

“I consume blood from humans. I eat them. I go out in the street and suck a pint of blood and flash flashy eyes and they don’t know what’s happened to them.”

“I like pints. Pints are delicious. And I don’t mind donating blood.”

“God, you’re weird,” Harry finally lets out. He and Niall burst into giggles, the sounds reverberating around the car.

“Says the vampire. So you wanna make out now or would you prefer I took you on a date first?” Niall grins sheepishly at Harry.

Harry’s still warm all over so he just smiles and says, “Can I cash in on both?”

And he does.


End file.
